Petunia
by Katy Fisher
Summary: A glimpse into Petunia Dursley's side of Harry's story.


**Dumbledore's Last**

* * *

><p>Petunia opened the front door and screamed.<p>

It was the kind of scream that made hair stand on end. Men scrambled through their houses to get outside, hoping they could save the poor woman that had uttered such horrifying cries. Women peered out of windows, their fingers poised over the phone to be the first to report whatever the tragedy was to the police. She didn't notice any of this.

"PETUNIA! PETUNIA! WHAT HAS HAPPENED? I'LL KILL HIM IF HE SO MUCH AS TOUCHES YOU!"

"Vernon!"

It was the family at Number 4. Disgruntled, the men went back to bed or breakfast. Women hung up their phones and planned to add this to the gossip about "that Dursley girl" over tea in the afternoon.

The house at Number 4, however, continued to exist in a state of tumult.

Vernon Dursley had made it to the front door, but couldn't move his wife out of the way in order to confront whomever, or whatever, had made her scream. Little Dudley shouted and cried from his high chair in the kitchen.

"Vernon," Petunia's voice was barely a whisper.

"Who's done it, Pet? Who's there?" Vernon demanded.

Instead of answering, she picked something up from the front step. When she turned to face her husband, she was holding a baby.

"What the devil is THIS?" Vernon's face was quickly turning purple. Dudley began screaming.

"Lily's boy," Petunia said, shakily, amazed that she even recognized him. She was too confused and in shock to really comprehend the situation. How was her nephew at her front door? Something must have happened, but how could they just leave him like that?

She looked down at the baby in her arms who was staring calmly into her eyes. It was as if Lily were looking at her. Those green eyes had always looked at her with so many emotions: love, jealousy, anger, fear, and, toward the end of their friendship, a lot of disgust. Now, they looked at her with curiosity and confusion. Then, she noticed the angry red mark on his forehead.

"Dammit," Vernon growled. "I'm ringing those crazies right now. Is this the kind of thing they find funny, leaving babies on people's steps?"

He began to walk away when Petunia choked out, "No. Vernon, you can't ring them."

"Why the HELL NOT? They've LEFT THEIR CHILD OUTSIDE OUR HOUSE!"

Petunia wasn't ready to reach the conclusion she was pretty sure was inevitable, so instead she replied, "Remember they don't have a phone. They use those owls."

"Fantastic." Vernon looked fit to be tied. "Well, he's not staying here."

"No, no," Petunia agreed in a daze as they walked into the kitchen.

"We've got our own son to worry about. We're not taking care of their freakish offspring just because they've gone on holiday or whatever their kind do that makes them leave babies on doorsteps."

"No. Of course." Petunia sat down in a chair, her mind beginning to pick up speed as she tried to figure out what she would do with an extra baby (a freak, to boot) in her house. How long would he stay? Hopefully, his people would swoop in and take him forever and she wouldn't have to take care of him for more than a few hours. _Yes_, she decided, _that's probably what they'll do. Can't have us regular people raising something like him._

"Dudley, mummy will feed you soon," Vernon said as he patted his son on the head. "Petunia, I'm off to work. When I get home, we'll drive...er...somewhere and make sure he's no longer our problem. Give him back to them. Good? Good." With a swift peck on her cheek, Vernon Dursley lumbered out the door.

Dudley's screaming rose in volume and Petunia realized she couldn't sit there with a baby in her arms. Working quickly so she could feed her son, she grabbed an old high chair Dudley had grown out of from the closet and, unwrapping the boy, placed her sister's child in it.

Then, she grabbed a bowl of cereal and a sippy cup of milk for Dudley and he was soon quietly eating his food. Petunia turned to the black-haired boy next. She realized she didn't even remember his name. _It's Harris, right? Or Harvey?_ It didn't matter. No matter what he was called, he should probably eat as well. If those people came to take him back into their society, they might not look kindly upon someone who had starved him.

After giving Harold (_or Henry?_) his own small bowl of cereal, Petunia sat down again. She found herself staring at the quiet boy again. Where did that thing on his forehead come from?

_It's not your problem_, she thought, shaking her head and sighing. _Someone's coming for him. You don't need to worry about him. _

Petunia noticed the blanket she had dropped onto the table when she put the boy in the high chair. That wouldn't do. She picked it up to fold and a heavy envelope fell out. She hadn't seen it before and it looked like it came from those people. Maybe it detailed how they were going to pick him up. Maybe it would explain that it was all a horrible practical joke. Forgoing the blanket, Petunia opened the letter.

Inside were a sheet of parchment and another envelope with her name on it. She picked up the single sheet first and began reading.

_Dear Mr. and Mrs. Vernon Dursley,_

_ I regret to begin our acquaintance on such dreadful terms. On the evening of October the 31__st__, the Dark Lord Voldemort murdered James and Lily Potter. Upon their deaths, he turned his wand on and attempted to kill their son, your nephew, Harry Potter. Mercifully, Harry survived and Voldemort was weakened and fled. The lightning bolt on his forehead is where the curse hit him and rebounded upon its caster. It does not seem to currently cause him any pain, so please do not let it cause you any undo worry._

_ However, Harry is no longer safe in the magical world. Lord Voldemort had many followers and, though many are in hiding, most will seek vengeance on young Potter for their Master's death._

_ I leave the boy in your capable hands so he may stay safe and in the care of family. If Harry does develop magical abilities in a few years, do not fear. He will not bring harm to you or your family and your own son will not be affected._

_ In some of my many visits with the Potter family, I have learned that Harry particularly loves treacle tart._

_ We grieve with you in your loss._

_ All the best,_

_ Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore_

"Oh." Petunia sat back, deflated. They weren't coming to take him. Lily and her husband were dead. A powerful, evil…something wanted to kill the boy. The boy's name was Harry.

She and Vernon had to raise him.

There was too much to take in. But, while she was in it, she might as well continue. She opened the second envelope and was hit in the head by Dudley's cereal bowl.

"Mo'!" he shouted. His bowl was refilled quickly. Harry continued to slowly eat his cereal, every so often stopping to stare at Petunia. It was unnerving. She turned slightly in her chair to avoid is gaze and went on to read the second letter. Maybe that one would tell her it was all a mistake and they really were coming to take the boy – Harry.

_Dear Petunia,_

_First, I would like to extend my deepest sorrow at your loss. Lily was a wonderful and brilliant woman and should not have died young, especially not in the way she did._

_Second, I need to address the serious nature of Harry's situation. Your nephew, though only a baby, is in the utmost danger. I know that you do not wish to associate yourself with your sister's world and you deny what you know, but the knowledge you have will keep the boy safe. If there were any other way to resolve this situation, I would not have burdened you with another child to raise. Please know you are Harry's last hope._

_He has a godfather. A man named Sirius Black and a very dear friend to the Potters. But due to his immense grief at the death of James and Lily, our current inability to find him, and other circumstances I cannot at present discuss with you, he cannot take care of the boy. _

_There is one other, more pressing, reason for handing you Harry. When Lily died, she was guarding her son. To the best of my knowledge, this has given Harry protection and kept him alive during the curse. As long as there is blood family near him and a place he can call home, this protection will last and continue to keep him safe from Voldemort and his followers._

_At the moment, Voldemort is gone. I believe with the blow he has taken, he will be gone for some time. He will not come to your home. Your family is not in danger. Of course, I cannot guarantee this forever. There will come a time when the Dark Lord will rise again. This cannot be avoided. _

_I was well acquainted with your sister and she confided in me. Before I continue, I would like to relay to you the fact that she loved you dearly and wished she had done things differently. Petunia, you were on Lily's mind much of the time. She was hoping to begin renewing your familial bond this Christmas. I apologize if this is forward of me, but please remember that your sister still loved you very much._

_Back to my point: Lily told me she used to write you letters while she was in school and, though you did not answer them and you did not want to talk about it when she was home, she believes you have read them. Many of these letters relayed information of our world. I would like to bring some of this information to the forefront of your mind, so you may be prepared if they should ever be mentioned in the future._

_Voldemort practiced the Dark Arts, including the Unforgivable Curses: Cruciatus (or Crucio when cast), Imperius (or Imperio when cast), and the Killing Curse (Avada Kedavra, the curse that killed your sister). I am sure Lily has told you what each does, so I do not wish to insult your intelligence by continuing on that subject. _

_Voldemort's followers are known as Death Eaters. While in power, he also had the allegiance of the Azkaban guards, Dementors. People such as yourself cannot see them, but they can be felt and they are a very serious threat to people's very souls._

_You may not have to worry about these things for some time, but you will need to remember them in the future._

_Petunia, you are Harry's only hope. You keep him safe by providing him a home. There is no other place for him to go. He cannot be part of the magical world until he attends Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry where I will keep him safe. Though, there is a chance he may not develop magical abilities. We can keep track of this, so have no worries._

_I hope this letter will help you in the future when Harry begins to ask questions about his parents and the scar. This letter was addressed specifically to you, Petunia, so you could decide how much you shared with your husband. From what Lily has told me, he's not very willing to admit our existence._

_Again, I extend my deepest condolences on the loss of your sister. I must also emphasize, once more: Petunia, you keep Harry alive._

_Feel free to send me an owl if you ever need help in the future._

_ Regards,_

_ Albus Dumbledore_

As she read through the letter, Petunia's shock had quickly turned into anger.

"How can this man insult me like this? Yes, you're being forward!" she shrieked at the parchment in her hand. "You're being forward and backward and upward and downward! What insolence! How dare you tell me about my relationship with my own sister? You, judging me on paper, you…you don't even know me! And what the hell is this damned protection that I have to provide? What kind of rubbish is this?

"And he's got a godfather you can't find? Blast his 'immense grief,' hold onto the child, and find the man! I have my own son already, thank you very much!"

Petunia was fuming; shouting, crumpling the parchment and throwing it against the wall. She paced the kitchen, angered at the fact that a man she didn't even know ("and with a ridiculous name to boot!") was telling her what she had to do and how she had to act and leaving her with another child.

Dudley and Harry sat in silence, not sure how to react at the outburst.

"Your people can do different things to protect a baby, surely! Why leave me with a freak child? Of all the people to go to now that Lily is – " Petunia stopped short. Her face crumpled and she fell back into her chair.

"Oh, God. Lily is dead."

Her sister's death finally hit her and she began sobbing into the table.

"No cry," Harry's tiny voice broke through her sobs. She turned to look at him stretching out his little hands at her. His fingers worked, opening and closing, as if he were trying to reach her. "No cry," he repeated, his big green eyes looking sadly at Petunia.

She made no move to reach out to him. Instead, she wiped her face with her apron, stood up, and began cleaning up from her tirade. This was no way for a young woman to act.

As she cleaned, her mind began to clear and considered what it meant to have another child in the house. The very idea of raising a freak in her own home repulsed her. It didn't help that he had that ghastly mark on his forehead. How would she explain this to the neighbors? How would she explain this to _Vernon_?

Vernon. Petunia decided she was going to hide the second letter, which she picked up from where she had thrown it and smoothed out onto the table. He would never know anything about it. She would, however have to share the first one with him. This was not something she particularly looked forward to.

Life had rapidly become a little more difficult for Petunia. Why couldn't Lily have been normal? Everything would have been wonderful. She would never have met those people, she wouldn't have married that man, and she would still be alive! Why did you have to do that, Lily? Why did you have to go ahead and get yourself killed?

Dudley began to cry, waving his empty bowl in the air. Petunia refilled it and sat down at the table again. She felt tired, though the morning had only just begun.

Harry was staring at her once more with those big green eyes. Lily was there, in the dark-haired boy, looking right through her.

"Dammit, Lily."

She had no choice. She had to raise Lily's son.


End file.
